


I've got two brain cells (and they're thinkin' 'bout you baby)

by pumpkin_latte



Series: Idol Life [1]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Johnny is there for .05 seconds, M/M, Romance, Taeyong is dense, Ten is done, and so tired, confessing, inspired from that interview, just give this a try, kind of a song fic, non-au, the tags suck I know but, they're both very tired, they're idols, very sad attempt at very little humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-15 22:52:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18082475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkin_latte/pseuds/pumpkin_latte
Summary: Taeyong is dense, Ten is upset.Taeyong's last two brain cells are done with him, and so is Ten.The summary sucks forgive meThe story isn't this bad I swear





	I've got two brain cells (and they're thinkin' 'bout you baby)

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on that BDS interview they did, well... introduction video thing. I tried finding fics based on it but couldn't find any and so HERE I AM with something no one asked for but I'm stalling like five other works lmao. I needed a break from Hiraeth, Firewater, and From Zero. 
> 
> Anyways, enjoy.

The words are on repeat. Over. And over. And over, as continuous the tick of a clock. A persistent echo in Taeyong's brain. 

Maybe he's too exhausted, sleep deprived, and hungry. Or he's finally down to his last two brain cells, he isn't quite sure of the cause but the words refuse to leave the confines of his mind. At the very least, they're bothering him. At the most, they're distracting him from everything else. 

_I'm more difficult than you think_

_More difficult..._

_Dif-fi-cult-_

He's been staring at the pot of noodles for four minutes, oblivious to the quiet surroundings of nearly one in the morning. 

It's the quietest the dorm has ever been, occupied only with light, muffled snoring and the occasional cough. Everyone is spent, wrung to the very last drop- the day had been too demanding to leave energy for talking or fooling around, sparing just enough capacity to scarf down leftovers, perform half-assed bedtime rituals, and curl right into bed. 

Everyone except Taeyong. 

_I'm difficult_

His thoughts are spinning, and he's tumbling in them like a lost sock in the dryer. He's so encumbered in his spin cycle that he's entirely unaware of the soft click of the front door or the careful padding of feet approaching closer, and closer until a far-too cheery voice cuts through the kitchen and startles the breath out of him.

He spins around so fast he gets whiplash, reaction mirroring that of a baby experiencing a jack-in-the-box for the first time. 

Ten is standing a few steps away, a laugh on his lips and eyes sparkling even through exhaustion.

_Beautiful_

"Sorry sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, hyung," he waves an apologetic hand in the air, inhaling a deep, satisfied breath of the savory aroma dancing in the kitchen, and hums. "Smells good." 

" _Jesus_  Tennie, I nearly lost a life," Taeyong breathes, clutching his heart with emphasis and Ten giggles softly at the overly dramatic (but not untrue) theatrics.

"Why are you still up?" Ten asks, carefully pulling a chair out as to not produce any disturbances. His head drops to the table the moment his butt meets the chair and rolls to his side to face Taeyong. 

"Too hungry. What brings you here so late?" 

The pout on Ten's face is unrivaled, and Taeyong could honestly die from cuteness overload.

"Why, you don't want me here?" 

"No, it's not that." He shakes his head, offering a small smile with the intention of showing that  _really isn't_  what he meant. "It's late and you look exhausted." 

Ten pouts again, but harder, creasing the skin between his brows and under his eyes. "Are you saying I don't look pretty?" 

If Taeyong could chuck himself out the window right now, he would. Ten is too much with all his teasing and clever words. Too much for Taeyong's two malfunctioning brain cells.

Biting his already-chewed-on pointer nail, he stares in defeat at the red specks of spice bubbling over the boil as if they'll give him advice. "That's not what I said either." 

"So...," Ten rolls his head back, enough to narrow his gaze straight into Taeyong' eyes with a playful smirk. " _Do_  I look pretty, then?" 

 _You're always pretty_ , he wants to say, but gulps that shit down real hard.

_Always beautiful_

Ten is  _alluring_. And Taeyong is staring, eyes flitting all over him...damp hair disheveled, full lips curved into a crafty grin, crescent eyes searching fondly, sleepily. Taeyong's ears flush and he prays the blush doesn't reach more...  _obvious_  places. 

 _Perfectly_  gorgeous. 

Ten repeats himself, smirk fading into a lazy chuckle and Taeyong realizes he's been staring three heartbeats too long. 

"Do I?" 

Malfunctioning, Taeyong bobs his head in short, rapid nods. "Yeah, yeah of course," he mutters and promptly turns back to the stove. "Here, I'll make you a plate. I bet you're hungry"

"Starving." 

✿✿

 

Taeyong carefully places a steaming bowl of ramen in front of Ten, then one directly across where he'll be sitting. "So, why are you here again?"

"Johnny and I switched bags, so I came to get mine back. It has my cream in it," he pauses to inhale a mouthful of soup, loud and messy and in the least attractive sense possible. The splatter of soup stuck to his cheek and drops of condensed steam on his face don't stand a chance, however, because Taeyong still thinks Ten is far _hotter_ than the steamy soup burning his tongue. "I can't sleep without my cream." 

He's _fucking whipped_.

"So  _that's_  why there's a bag in the living room. I thought someone was just too lazy to pick it up. I was fully prepared to rip the culprit a new one come morning." 

Ten sighs loudly, shaking his head with disappointment. "I'm so sorry I took that chance away from you. A tragedy" 

Taeyong almost chokes on a laugh at Ten's dramatic acting, but that's okay. The silence that follows after is perfectly comfortable. It's one of the many,  _many_  things he adores about their friendship -  _they don't need words_. Neither are compelled to continue a conversation beyond its limit just to fill the spaces in between. It's understood, calm, and harmonious, being in each other's presence like this. 

Except in Taeyong' head, it's noisy. 

The words are still tumbling persistently in his mind, and he's philosophizing deeper now that the object of his thoughts is across from him in the flesh. He thinks now, when they're both exhausted but well fed, is the opportune time to ask.

A stupid decision on his part, if he says so himself. 

He glances at Ten, who is busy picking off the last remaining remnants in his bowl. Taeyong darts his eyes around the room, contemplating, figuring out how to even ask him, or if it would be stupid to ask and if he'd just end up creating a fool of himself instead. 

 _Jokes on me because I'm already a fool._ He stifles a laugh at his own retort to himself.

Asking his best friend a simple question shouldn't be this... _tormenting_. It's excessive. Far too difficult despite his prided confidence. But Taeyong is, after all, a little...  _hopeless_ \- his best friend being his crush and all.

"You okay, hyung?" Ten's soft voice reels him out of his cranium, and he stares back stupidly as if he's been caught licking frosting off a cake. 

Not that it would matter because knowing Taeyong,  _he'd_  be the one baking _and_ frosting the cake, which gives him the privilege to lick off as much frosting as he wants.

He uses his last reserve of energy to focus on not malfunctioning (or thinking about cake).

"Y-yeah, I'm good. Just thinking." 

"About what?" 

He wasn't expecting further questioning. A stupid thought on his part because Ten  _always_  questions further. It's one of the many quirks that make Ten so uniquely...  _Ten_. "Hm?" 

"What're you thinking about?" Ten grins, pushing his now empty bowl to the side and fitting his chin between his hands, gazing his undivided attention into Taeyong's eyes. 

"Nothing important." 

Ten tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowing into Taeyong's implying that  _he knows_. Taeyong admits he feels exposed like this. Ten has always been, especially after all these years, _exceptional_ at reading him.

"You were making that face you always make when it's something important." 

"I- _I do not_  make a face." 

Ten squeezes his brows together and pouts, widening his doe eyes blankly into an empty spot, then points to himself. "This face. You make this face when you're thinking really hard," he mumbles, holding the expression.

"Keen of you to notice," Taeyong enunciates. 

"I notice everything about you, hyung. Now tell me, what is it? Get it out. Let it free. Un-cage it." 

Ten swings his arms in the air, imitating a bird, the comedic look on his face drawing out a chuckle from Taeyong's mouth. "Okay, uhm.." 

For a moment he thinks real hard, slightly uneasy under Ten's gaze. Not at all with discomfort, but in the sense that he knows he can't lie his way through this. He knows Ten  _can and will_  pick out his bullshit, should he decide to come up with any. 

"I wanted to ask you..." 

Ten's eyes grow a little wider then, his mouth forming an 'o'. "Oh, it has to do with me?" 

Taeyong nods. 

"Did I do something? Did the manager hyungs complain about me? What did I do? Am I-" 

Taeyong cuts his ramble short with a small chuckle. "No, no. It's nothing like that, don't worry." 

Ten sinks back into the chair, his expression relaxing immediately. "Thank god. Anyways, continue," he waves a hand, indicating exactly that. 

"I wanted to ask you... about what you said, earlier..." Taeyong says, carefully, taking his time with the words, his nails finding themselves between his teeth as a reflex of his nerves. 

"I say a lot of things Yongie, you need to be more specific." 

He swallows thickly before freeing the thing occupying his mind all day, taking care to avoid Ten's intrigued eyes. 

"During recording, when I said that all I have to say is your name to cheer you up, you said that you're more difficult than that..." he pauses, quickly spying a glance at Ten who is focused as he recalls the event. "What did you mean by that?" 

Slightly, but quite noticeably, Ten stiffens, sitting up a little straighter. Taeyong also doesn't miss the sudden shift in the air between them. Thick and almost uncomfortable with the lingering spice in the air.  

"I meant exactly that. It's not that easy to bring my mood up," he shrugs with a barely-there smile.  Taeyong knows there's something hiding behind that smile, but he doesn't know  _what-_ the two overworked brain cells in his head being... more than a little slow.

"Then... why does your mood lighten up whenever we just say your name cutely? I can tell when you're faking happiness. It's obvious, but when someone says  _'Ten_ ,  _Tennie'_ , your eyes light up again and you like,  _visibly_  brighten." 

"It's not everyone, hyung."

That should've been a hint right there. 

But his brain cells are fucking  _tired_.

"Well, when  _I_  say it seems to make you happier." 

_Oh_

"Exactly. When  _you_  say it." 

 _Oh_... 

"T-then," he pauses, peeling his eyes away from Ten's and biting his pointer nail, again, until his thoughts form. "Why does that make you difficult?" 

Ten leans on his elbows and rubs his face, something in his expression then, something beyond just tiredness. "Because," he says, fingers carding roughly through his hair with a frustration Taeyong can't quite name. "I'm not  _that_  easy to cheer up. It's more than just you calling my name, Yongie. It's much,  _much_  more than that." 

He doesn't get it. The look on Ten's face says he should, but he just doesn't and it's poking his patience. "Okay, how? That's literally what I've been thinking about all day and I would like to know why it's more than just that." 

"Why?" There's an edge to his voice. A sharpness Taeyong's not used to. He shifts awkwardly in his chair and manages a shrug. He doesn't know the reason himself, but it's bothering him. The grey area is bothering him, and he's filling it up with fantasies that he's sure will bite and bleed later. 

"I don't know, I just-" he sighs, defeated and sinking into the chair while his eyes scurry around the air, searching his brain for an answer. "I guess I always thought it was easy to make you smile and I always found that cute about you. It wasn't until you said that, that I started thinking deeper and trying to figure out what you could've meant by that. I don't even know why it's been stuck in my thoughts like, all day, but it just is." 

A few solid moments of silence pass, condensing the spiced air enough that Taeyong could probably cut it with a knife. 

He notices that Ten avoids his eyes. 

The silence persisting, increasing his heart rate anxiously until-

"You're really dense," Ten finally says in a small voice, and Taeyong's sure there's disappointment somewhere in his tone. Ten pushes off the chair, already halfway into the doorframe. 

"Tennie-" 

And Ten actually stops, turning on a heel until they're facing each other. Taeyong stands up, ready to march after him should he _actually_ leave. 

"Call me when you figure it out." 

He's leaving. Taeyong repeats his name again, and again- but it doesn't do shit. 

"It's past two in the morning, just stay the night," he tries, but Ten is waving a hand, grabbing his bag off the couch and stepping out the door. 

He might have imagined it- Ten's steps lingering a second too long at the doorframe as if he's waiting for Taeyong to stop him. Waiting for him to grab his hand, turn him around and give him a reason to stay. 

But Taeyong is tired. Exhausted. Kind of malfunctioning and he doesn't grab his hand. Doesn't turn him around. He doesn't give Ten a reason to stay. 

Everything is suddenly very dark. His knees feel weak and he slumps in his spot, staring at the floor and darting through every word to formulate  _something_  when a deep, sleep-ridden voice brings one out of two brain cells back to his surroundings. 

"You really are fucking dense," he hears Johnny from behind him, leaning against the doorframe half asleep. 

Taeyong whines, half annoyed, half frustrated, and completely confused. 

 

 ✿✿

 

Four days. 

Four. entire. days. Since Ten has talked to him. 

And I mean  _talk_  to him. 

Of course, Ten can't afford to blatantly ignore Taeyong either. He  _is_  a professional after all, and Taeyong knows that. 

He'll supply the bare minimum, nothing beyond the required extent to communicate something direly important. It's a blessing that they're already so in tune with each other that talking isn't a huge requirement _but_ -

-if Taeyong's being completely honest with himself, he's reaching his limit. 

Four  _fucking_  days. 

Texting was his first attempt, but all he got was the tantalizing ' _read'_  checkmark beside his text bubble. He even went as far as showing up to the Dreamies dorm with the intent to demand a proper conversation, but to his misfortune, Ten was not there. But he did leave a sticky note on his door.

Everything Taeyong could do, he did. Save for calling. 

After all, he hasn't figured it out, yet. 

His pointer fingernail is dangerously close to the seam of flesh, so he's moved onto his middle finger while his eyes focus on the monitor without seeing anything in particular. 

He just can't figure it out. 

Why Ten said what he said, why he's so upset and  _why the fuck_  everyone keeps calling him dense. 

It didn't take long for news to spread around the dorm, reaching all the way to the dreamies dorm as well. The news soon morphing to rumors, and rumors to inside jokes that Taeyong couldn't understand.

He spins in the chair, hoping maybe the circular motion will speed up his last two brain cells and give them much needed energy- it doesn't work. Instead, he's dizzy and twice as annoyed as before, increasingly so when his phone dings. 

Ignoring the disturbance would have been ideal, but he  _is_  the leader and it is  _his_  job to make sure these seventeen boys don't kill themselves over their collective lack of common sense. 

Not that he has any left at this point either, but he thinks he's got one extra brain cell than the rest of them. 

Except maybe Kun. Kun might have more. 

Taeyong distracts himself with his lock screen for a second, caressing his thumb over Ten's smiling face next to his own and holding it there before swiping his phone unlocked.

 _< Jeno: Hey Hyung, Jisung is feeling really sick but refuses to let any of us take care of him. Will you come help?_ >

Suddenly Taeyong doesn't remember what was frustrating him a second ago, his motherly instincts kicking in as he quickly packs his things and heads for the dreamies dorm, throwing caution to the wind as far as Ten is concerned. 

 

 ✿✿

 

The Dreamies dorm is suspiciously quiet. Taeyong steps inside, kicking off his shoes and placing them neatly to the side, a stark contrast to the mess of footwear around his own. 

"I'm here," he announces to what feels like an empty dorm.

"Jeno? Jisungie? Anyone? Why is it so quiet," he mumbles the last- an afterthought, because never in the history of this dorm has it been  _this_  quiet- not even when everyone is asleep. He trails into the living room, kitchen, bathroom, and then back to the living room just in case. He pads his way upstairs, hoping he'll find someone. 

But it's dark upstairs too. 

Except for one light. 

The soft, yellow glow from under Ten's door. Taeyong thinks really hard for a moment, contemplating whether he should continue his search in the other rooms, knock on his door, or just leave. 

But the thought of Jisung being sick and in need of motherly care is too painful for Taeyong to consider leaving and so he continues his search, saving Ten's room for last. 

He tiptoes down the hall, particularly quietly as he crosses Ten's room, sighing at the lingering sweet, floral fragrance of black tea.

The sigh becomes a deepening frown with every empty room he checks and wonders if they're at the 127 dorms instead, if Jisung is okay and if anyone even gave him medicine. Quickly, he fishes out his phone from his pocket, thumbing the screen (not allowing Ten's smile to distract him this time) when a sweet voice startles him halfway into his grave. 

"Hey."

Of course, it's Ten. Leaning against the doorway with tousled hair and tired eyes, his lips wearing a soft smile. Taeyong isn't sure why he even fancied the idea of it being anyone else.

"Hey, uhm... Jeno texted me-" 

"Yeah, he texted me too." 

Taeyong pauses, studying Ten for a second or two while his poor duet of brain cells try piecing everything together. "Where are they?" 

Ten shrugs, pushing himself off the doorway. He crosses the room and plops down on Jungwoo's bed, avoiding Taeyong's eyes on him. 

"Beats me. I came home to an empty dorm." 

That's when it clicks. 

The hushed whispers between the 127 members, the secret texts, the hidden phone screens whenever Taeyong so much as walked by them. 

He should've seen it coming. 

They hadn't exactly been subtle. 

"They tricked us," Taeyong chuckles in disbelief, sitting on the bed opposite from Ten with a defeated expression.

"Yup." Ten is... unsurprised, his voice airy compared to Taeyong, who is still trying to make sense of the situation while simultaneously attempting to keep his nerves at bay. 

After all, he is  _finally_  alone with Ten. Not that it's anything new. He's used to being alone with him, in practice rooms, interviews, and stages. But this is different.  _Ten_  is different. He's upset.

And something tells him that just saying Ten's name cutely isn't going to help him out of this one. 

But he tries anyway. 

"Ten, Tennie-" 

Ten shakes his head, a sound leaving his lips that's an awful lot like a scoff. 

"I told you, I'm not that simple." This isn't a voice Taeyong knows. This isn't a voice he's ever heard from Ten's mouth- cold, distant. Barely sparing a glance as he pushes off the bed and steps towards the door. Taeyong almost trips over himself in his rush to stop him leaving.

This time, his hand curls around Ten's wrist, the momentum pulling him a step forward and Ten turns immediately, their eyes meeting in a second.

There's surprise on Ten's face. Something Taeyong had not expected, and by the looks of it, something Ten hadn't expected either.

"Ten please, just tell me what it is," his voice is begging- he _needs_ Ten to smile brighter than the sun. Needs that bubbly Ten that blooms pink roses deep inside his chest. 

He needs them to be okay. 

He needs  _Ten_  to be okay.

"I can't, hyung. Just let go of me," his voice cracks, small and so very unlike of everything Ten- the animated, confident, eye-smiles and no-filter Ten, that he usually is. "Please." 

Taeyong doesn't listen. 

Instead, he pulls Ten closer, albeit only by an inch. "I can't let you go this time," he says, rushed and anxious.

"Hyung-" 

"No, Ten," Taeyong interrupts, sharply, exhaling as he formulates the right string of words to spill from his lips. "I'm sorry that I'm dense. I'm sorry I haven't been able to figure out what I said, or did, that was wrong, but please-  _please_  just help me fix it, Ten." 

He searches the brown of Ten's eyes but finds them blocking him out, shifting their gaze to the floor between them.

The silence persists for a breath too long. "Ten please just tell me." 

"I really don't want to." 

" _Why_ , I don't get it, why you do this to me, I've noticed it-" the words choke, and suddenly Taeyong isn't sure if he should continue, the ice in Ten's eyes freezing his breath right in his throat. 

There's ice in his voice, too. "What have you noticed?" 

Taeyong swallows thickly, the uncertainty surrounding him loosening his grip on Ten's wrist. "How you act towards me, compared to everyone else," he says, cautiously. Ten's eyes size him, indicating he wants more.

"You're different around me. You're not as affectionate as you used to be, you don't even spend as much time with me anymore. Whenever I try to care for you, you kind of block me out and it's really frustrating because I see you with literally everyone else and you're so much more  _comfortable_  around them and I don't know what I did to not deserve the same because you weren't like that before-" he practically vomits, inhaling deeply to fill his lungs again. Suddenly, he's very self-aware, having said too much. Exposed too much, not knowing if anything should have been said at all. 

"You're the one that's frustrated? I find that laughable, hyung." There's an edge to his voice that has Taeyong's chest twisting. 

"What the hell have I done that's frustrated you?" 

And it's wearing his patience thin. 

"I don't want to tell you-" 

 _Really fucking thin_. 

"Why? Apparently, you've told everyone else, so why not me? Just tell me what I did, Ten, because clearly, I can't fucking figure this out on my own-" He forces the words to stop. Every word louder than the one before, spitting further than the one before. Taeyong doesn't realize this himself, but Ten does. His face changes, the clear upset shadowing his features softening into something.... else. Something like pain.

The brittle smile on Ten's lips, the tremble in his voice- Taeyong knows he's digging too deep. He knows he can't crawl out of this. 

"That's exactly it. You don't realize what's in front of you, hyung. You're always so focused on the bigger picture that you miss the little things." 

Taeyong sighs, loud and heavy and growing increasingly tired-  _annoyed_. "Well,  _I'm sorry_  but being the leader of seventeen people is mentally draining, so  _I'm sorry_  for not noticing the little things you're too stubborn to just fucking say out loud."

If Taeyong could suck the words back in his mouth, he would. The bite in his voice is deep, gnawing at his chest and Ten takes an uneasy step back. "I'm sorry, that-"

It's Taeyong's fault. The hurt in those quivering lips, the disappointment on his bright face, the fragile damn desperately trying to contain the growing pool in those doe eyes- it's his fault. Taeyong's fault. The one who managed to break the sun.

Ten pulls his wrist back, walking away, farther, and farther into the dark hallway. Farther from Taeyong.

This isn't what he wanted. This isn't how it was supposed to end. Catching up, his steps frantic and rushed, Taeyong pulls on Ten's shoulder, forcing him to turn back. "Ten-" 

" _No_ , hyung-"

Taeyong staggers. He's never heard Ten - the sweet, _caring_  Ten whose soft voice and vibrant words paint a smile on everyone's face - sound so...bruised. Broken.  

But even the sun has it's weak points. It's solar flares and sunspots. It's what so attractive, beautiful, and admirable about it. About Ten- his northern lights. 

Ten pushes himself away, the intensity in his trembling eyes settling deep in Taeyong's bones, forcing an urgency down his throat to do something,  _anything_  to fix this.

"I'm  _done_  trying to spell it out for you because all of fucking SM seems to know but you don't and then, then you say shit that makes me think  _for a second_  that maybe, just  _maybe_  you've figured it out but I'm disappointed each. Fucking. Time-" he gasps, and Taeyong thinks he sees something shimmer down Ten's cheek, but the windowless hallway they're in is too dark.

"This is just as frustrating for me too, you know." 

Ten shakes his head, a brittle, unsteady smile on his lips. " _Don't_. You don't get to say that to me. You don't." 

A puff of air leaves Taeyong's lips, a pathetic attempt at formulating words but Ten is already halfway through the hallway, the sweet aroma of black tea strong from his room. 

"Tennie, I'm sorry-" 

But Ten doesn't turn around. 

Taeyong is panicking. Stumbling over himself to reach Ten before the door slams shut. 

But he's too late. 

 

✿✿

" _Tennie_..." 

 

Taeyong curls pathetically into himself, just a word away from breaking apart entirely. 

It's late. It feels like he's been curled outside of Ten's door for the entire night. The carpet under him is itchy, his body is aching and numb from the persisted fetal position. 

But he can't just leave- not when he's hurt Ten. Not when everything is a mess.

"Ten,  _please_ -" 

That just about does it. 

Emotions that he'd kept choked in his throat with the determined intent to keep himself together, spill freely from his eyes- silently, at first. Gradually, a crescendo to a whisper, a whimper, until he's coiling himself so small that his face is wedged between his knees, positive that the carpet is leaving its print on his raw, stained cheeks. 

He can't hold it in. 

It's swelling inside him. Rolling off his quivering lips in loud, broken sobs. 

And the thought of it is frightening. 

Losing what they have, losing his best friend over something that's possibly blown out of proportion because he can't figure it out. Because they're both  _painfully_  stubborn.

It's  _horribly_  terrifying. 

Losing that bright smile. 

 _Breaking_  that bright smile. The sun itself. 

Taeyong thinks he hears the soft creak of the floor on the other side of the door. He thinks he feels Ten's presence just a few inches away on the other side. 

But he's tired. So fucking  _tired_  and even if he wanted to, he couldn't have kept himself awake, the relief from crying having lulled him enough to give in to sleep. 

 

✿✿

 

Taeyong isn't awake yet. Not fully. 

But somehow... it clicks the moment his brain meanders back to consciousness.

Everything suddenly pieces itself together. His poor, lone two brain cells finally received enough rest to connect the dots, thanks to the god knows how many hours he's been asleep.

Maybe it's the aroma surrounding him. The unique scent of Ten- of tea and honey and his floral lotion. Or maybe it's the plush cotton sheets blanketing his body, wrapping him in the clouds themselves. 

Or, maybe, it's the soft melody. The hushed, beautiful whisper of a song Taeyong recognizes, from a voice he so dearly adores. 

But Taeyong gets it, now. It's all so clear, clearer than the Koh Lanta of Thailand.

_Don't make me wait another day_

Ten is singing. Soft as the spring breeze. Warm as summer. 

Opening his eyes, the ghost of a smile tugs Taeyong's lips. _Beautiful -_ Ten, leaned back into his office chair, hair mussed over his forehead. Eyes closed, the long curve of his lashes shadowing artistically on his cheeks. Earbuds smushed in, the soft moonlight shimmering exactly on his face- he's glowing. Sparkling, even, but that might just be Taeyong's biased perception. 

_"Let's stop running from us, running from us..let's stop, my baby,"_

How much sense this all makes. 

The nervous smiles and panicked reactions. Ten hadn't distanced himself at all, no. It was quite the opposite. 

And Taeyong gets it. 

He finally fucking gets it. 

Slightly, as to not disturb the moment, Taeyong leans on an arm and notices something sitting on the corner of Ten's desk, in perfect view from the pillow. The sticky note he'd left.

Ten kept it. Hell, he kept it in a place where he could read it _from bed_ \- Taeyong's slightly embarrassing heartfelt apology.

He glances at Ten, then back to the note, and back again. Without lifting himself off the bed, Taeyong reaches over and grabs the arm of Ten's chair, swiftly and suddenly pulling the chair closer, not caring for the perplexity dawning Ten's face. 

"Hyung-" Ten squeaks, but Taeyong's already grabbing his hands and yanking him off the chair, gathering him in his arms with an urgency, desperation as he tightens his grip around Ten's back, fingers digging into the soft linen of his shirt.

He melts instantly into Ten's skin. "I'm so sorry," he sighs into Ten's neck, tenderly. 

Tight. He holds him  _tight_  and completely against his body, afraid he'll run away again. And Ten tries to, wringing and squirming to worm away from his hold, but this time Taeyong's grip is sure. 

He's figured it out, after all.

"Let go of me-" Ten mumbles, an earbud falling out, which Taeyong promptly shoves into his own ear instead. 

_Oh My, my, my, I die every night with you_

This moment is what does it. The melody playing into their ears only- for them to share alone. Tens glossed eyes fall into his own, falling into the sound of their breathing against the words that spell everything out for Taeyong. 

Taeyong's arms are unyielding around Ten's body, pushing him down, tangling a hand in his soft hair.  _Breathing him in_ \- the sweetness of tea and honey still on Ten's lips.

_Let's stop running from us_

"You should really take advice from these lyrics," Taeyong whispers, studying Ten's blushing face. Pink lips parted, brows curved, a mixture of nervousness and confusion shadowing his features, with a hint of hope in his eyes. 

Ten doesn't reply. Not in the form of words, at least. Instead, he leans in a fraction of an inch. A movement that wouldn't have been noticeable had Taeyong been even an inch farther. 

There's hesitation. A question lingering between them, waiting to roll off Ten's tongue. Taeyong can tell as much. 

_Should be the last night ever_

_Should be the last night we're apart_

The gap between them is small. Ten exhales, unsteady, and Taeyong inhales, confidently, lifting his head off the pillow, slightly, replying to the question on Ten's lips- whispering the words right into them. Into the lessening space between them. It's magnetic. Understood. And the pink roses in Taeyong's chest blossom extravagantly because Ten's lips are so _warm_. A direct hit of sunlight, in the form of a kiss.

And it's euphoria. A relief Taeyong didn't know he needed, that he'd been  _starving_  for.

It's pleasantly satisfying, even if Ten's lips are still for a second before he presses back, saying something through the touch, something that can't be said through words. Something numinous, profound. 

This is what he's wanted, what he's dreamt of since rookie days and  _god_ , it's so much better than what he could've ever imagined-

The taste of honey black tea from Ten's lips, the careful hands on the side of his face, thumbs caressing his cheek, hair, jaw. No space between their bodies. Just them. And it's perfect. 

Better than perfect. 

Ten pulls away first, eyes closed, shallow breath fanning against Taeyong's skin as his mind floats somewhere beyond the clouds. Taeyong's tangled fingers in his hair loosen, softening the mess of stands as he gazes up into Ten's brightening eyes, whose luminescence exceeds that of the billions of stars in the clear night sky and beyond.  

But the smile on Ten's face is far brighter. The brightest star of all. And Taeyong leans to peck a quick, sealing kiss on those curved lips. 

"You finally figured it out huh?" Ten almost whispers and Taeyong feels the blush on Ten's cheek against his palm.

"Troye Sivan helped me out, but yeah." 

The most beautiful chuckle leaves Ten's lips, rolling right into Taeyong's mouth. Ten shakes his head, partially in disbelief, but mostly in relief. "You really drove me crazy, you know that?" 

He knows. He drove  _himself_  crazy in the process. Imagining what he put  _Ten_  through is... unimaginable.

"I know, I'm so sorry Tennie," he pauses, the back of his hand tracing down Ten's face as the next song on the playlist whispers into their ears. "I guess I wasn't too confident in how you felt about me. I thought I was just making things up, seeing what I wanted to see, you know?" 

"I know. That's why I was trying to show you it's real. I literally couldn't have made it more obvious." 

"You could've just kissed me." Taeyong quips with a shrug, a stupid smirk pulling his face.

"I could have," Ten says, shifting slightly, arms framing Taeyong's head. "But I wasn't too sure either if you liked me back. I guess this was my way of making sure." 

It baffles Taeyong, how Ten  _couldn't_  have known. Taeyong thinks he was pretty damn obvious- the showered attention, compliments, and sudden surge of unbridled confidence whenever he's with Ten- despite his nervousness.

Taeyong smoothes Ten's hair between fingers, staring  _deep_  into the stars in those dark eyes.

Ten is a blessing. A vibrant, intricately sculpted human deserving of a godlike title. His flaws and imperfections. Talents and beliefs. It's a privilege, being in his presence. Knowing him. How could Taeyong  _not_  like him?  _Love_  him?

It's impossible to even imagine such a world.

"I thought I was being obvious considering I can't even imagine a world where I don't love you."

Quiet.

 _Oh_ -

Ten's eyes widen, slowly, lips parting and breath lost somewhere in the air between them. He opens his mouth, then closes it again, and swallows. "You- You love me?"

Taeyong hadn't realized he said that. He meant it, but it was _meant_ to be a thought and he curses the inability of his overworked brain cells to filter between thoughts and what should actually be said aloud.

But the words are on his lips, ready to roll off his tongue and expose his heart. He blinks rapidly, his fingertips on Ten's cheek stilled. Everything is suddenly so motionless- the song in their ears, the streets, the whole fucking world- and Taeyong manages to breathe out the words he's been dying to say for god knows how long. "I do," he nods, "I love you."

His heart is racing, and Ten is frozen for a heartbeat, then two, until his head drops against Taeyong's chest, shaking. Crying.

It makes Taeyong wonder how long  _Ten_ has been waiting to hear that.

"I love you too-" his voice cracks. Taeyong feels a wet warmth pool in the dip of his collarbone, wet lips brushing against his skin, and long fingers curling into the sides of his face. " _God_ I really fucking love you Taeyong,"

Relief.

A breath of fresh air, the first bloom of spring. 

He pulls him closer, and Ten repeats the three words, over, and over, for all the times he's held it in. For all the times Taeyong's held it in too.

Taeyong's smile nearly splits his face in half. He kisses the crown of Ten's head, then his ear, then chuckles with reprieve. "When?"

Ten shrugs under his arms, lifting his head just enough to look at Taeyong and wipe his tears. "I don't know, like-" he groans, the waterworks of his eyes still in procession. "Recently, when we were still choreographing and writing Baby Don't Stop, that's when I realized I loved you but I've liked you since we were trainees."

They're the same.

Absolutely in sync even with their hearts, despite the... _minor_ hiccups.

Taeyong swipes a thumb under Ten's wet eyes and delicately holds his face in his palms with a smile of pure, unadulterated love. "The time when we had to drink our smoothies in the cheesiest way possible, on the auto-walk, that's what did it for me."

Yeah, that's what did it for Taeyong. That's what provided him with the mental image of what it would be like, what it would _feel_ like- to be with Ten. To _love_ Ten.

It was easy, too. Loving him, imagining it as if it were real.

As if on cue, they fell together.

And on cue, Ten presses a kiss to Taeyong's lips. Cheek. Forehead. The crinkle on the corner of his eye, because the smile on his lips is so wide, it reaches his eyes.

"I owe Johnny and Sicheng coffee." Ten mumbles, lips still against Taeyong's forehead. "I thought you'd take another week figuring this out." Taeyong snorts at this.

"I would _not_ have taken another week-" Taeyong feigns hurt, but the grin on his lips gives him away. "I'm dense but not  _that_  dense."  

"You're pretty dense, Yong. Especially considering I've been dropping hints for, hmm, I don't know,  _years_?"  Ten giggles, shifting above him as he rearranges himself, fitting comfortably into Taeyong's side and leaning on his elbow.

It feels so domestic- as if they've shared this intimacy for years- Taeyong's fingers drawing up Ten's back, then back down. Ten sliding his fingers through Taeyong's fringe, pushing away the bangs over his eyes and neatly tucking them behind his ear. The soft touch of Ten's fingertip tracing down the smooth curve of Taeyong's jaw with an endearing look that has his heart skipping over itself. It's so understood- _natural_ , between them.

"Okay, so I am dense," Taeyong says, watching the way Ten's expression lights up when the next song plays. "But I'm your dense boy, right?"

Ten hums, leaning down and pressing a long, wet kiss on Taeyong's jaw just before burrowing his face in the crook of his neck. "That's right. You are my dense boy," he whispers, thick with sleep.

Relief. Taeyong's two brain cells did good, he thinks, with this outcome. 

The perfect ending to a stressful day, with Ten in his arms and in his heart, bathing in the gentle sweetness of black tea, in the high moonlight of god knows what hour, as Troye Sivan's Bloom plays into their ears, into their little world alone.

Perfect indeed.  


End file.
